"I'm about to drop it like it's hot."
If you didn't get the memo, Monday is the new Friday. Celebrate! The house across the street often hosts small stoop-parties, but never before so loud as bombs. I once thought they might be a fun bunch to befriend (yeah, I'm currently taking apps), but now I'm thinking, uh, NIET.
It started with drive-by heckling. Later they hit their stride screeching garbled obscenities at faceless neighbors. Then under dog-walker disguise I got close enough to hear the above quoted gem before shorty cued Dr. Dre. Before I could give a rehabilitative shout-out for the old school selection, I was stopped dead by the gruesome sound of two girls giving their best orgasm impression. Top of lungs, owls-under-harrowing-attack-style. It won't pretty. The dirty bird crescend-O was the proverbial straw that got the boys to drag the girls inside. Either it sobered 'em up enough to realize this wasn't very neighborly (or a little too neighborly) or got their wheels a-turnin' in another direction. Whatever the cause, the street thanks them kindly.
Now I’m off to bed with “Nuthin’ but a 'G' Thang” dancing in my head.
It started with drive-by heckling. Later they hit their stride screeching garbled obscenities at faceless neighbors. Then under dog-walker disguise I got close enough to hear the above quoted gem before shorty cued Dr. Dre. Before I could give a rehabilitative shout-out for the old school selection, I was stopped dead by the gruesome sound of two girls giving their best orgasm impression. Top of lungs, owls-under-harrowing-attack-style. It won't pretty. The dirty bird crescend-O was the proverbial straw that got the boys to drag the girls inside. Either it sobered 'em up enough to realize this wasn't very neighborly (or a little too neighborly) or got their wheels a-turnin' in another direction. Whatever the cause, the street thanks them kindly.
Now I’m off to bed with “Nuthin’ but a 'G' Thang” dancing in my head.
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